Free Children of the Program by Brad Cox Page A

dressed to impress, suppress and repress.  Girls were of his choosing; their hearts were a lottery, and he liked to play.  Those who didn't fawn, would inevitably cower into his arms and pray for a quick release.  He had a long list of female conquests to boast and quickly assumed dominant roles amongst his peers.  The Western sun called him to fly closer than he ever imagined possible.
     
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                  The summer heat burned through their clothes, while they cautiously awaited revelation.  Even Dez was no longer loud, proud nor spouting off at the mouth; the buds had left his mind numb.  Off in the distance, Icarus and the three remaining individuals emerged into view.  If Magnus's dream was accurate, the circle would soon be completed and the 12 stones could take their place on the monstrous white mystery.
                  Their distance seemed to be multiplied by the group’s divided patience.  Their footsteps were ushered along, like a funeral procession, as they inched toward the gathering circle — their pace couldn’t have seemed slower.  They were covered in the familiar gaseous shroud of a heat haze.  Their silhouettes, like the introduction of an old Mad Max film.  One character stood-out amongst the rest.  He was either really tall or much closer than he appeared.  The impossible volume of this individual suggested he was closer.  He was not. 
                  “It looks like we're not alone!  Plenty of shams,” puckered Zane.
                  “No!  It looks like there are at least 7, maybe 8, others,” added Ben.
                  “They look like they need to stand-up and shake it off,” said Juno, interlocking fingers with Ben's unwelcoming hands and lightening the mood with a mock waltz.  Zane welcomed her effervescence.  Ben was unamused.  The lighthearted girls giggled.  “Oh, come on, grump!”
                  Exhaustion reduced Icarus to sighs and lazy grunts.  The time it took for sultry blood to circulate through his sky-scraping frame and reach his mammoth brain left him little energy to interact with the group.  Each attempt to connect his mind with his mouth created discomfort.  Nonsensical sounds fell from his lips, like lazy rain.
                  “Eh,” tried Icarus.
                  Comprehending their calling was a crime against the mind, but not the shoulders they leaned on.
                  “So, how many of you were visited by the beautiful spirit woman?” asked Juno.  “I bet she's with us now.”
                  “I was terrified!  I couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been watching me sleep — or worse!  Total stalker,” joked Zane.
                  “We know we're here to do something — something great!  It's easy for us to take our dreams for granted, but if we weren't special, this desert would be consumed by the heartbeat of 7 billion people.  I don't know what it is, but it'll be something amazing,” professed Juno.  “I can feel the rhythm of the air.”
                  “What is amazing about being haunted by precarious dreams and led into the middle of god-knows-where for a celestial meet-and-greet with utter strangers?  No offense, but this is offensive.  I can't help but wonder if the entire universe is punishing me for something I did in another lifetime,” returned Ben.  With staunch pessimism, he squeezed his temples to relieve a pressure headache.
                  “Uh huh,” moaned Icarus.
                  “Honey, you had to have believed it was going to be something incredible.  You came, didn't you?” asked Juno.
                  “You're supposing I had a choice,” said Ben.
                  Their dehydrated voices clammed, upon reaching the gathering.  With sweaty palms, they reached down toward the lazy-eyed